


Peeping Tim

by Mix Stitch (Synph)



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 10:47:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2689997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synph/pseuds/Mix%20Stitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim is in the wrong place at the right time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peeping Tim

**Author's Note:**

  * For [st00pz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/st00pz/gifts).



> A long awaited commision for st00pz who has been extremely patient with me throughout all the rewrites and distractions. Major thanks to my twitter peeps especially Meeya who now has me wanting to write something where Tim is basically _always_ walking in on people having sex (especially Bruce and Dick ehehehe).

There’s absolutely no reason for anyone to still be in the Cave this close to dawn.

No reason at all. With the sun set to rise soon, all of Gotham City’s more nocturnal criminals are set to bunker down for the night and most, if not all, of the city’s crime fighters are either getting ready for their day jobs or one their way to falling asleep.

All except for Tim.

He takes the stairs two at a time, all but running down them in an attempt to get where he needs to be  _fast_.

Overhead, the bats that call the cave home chitter in the dark and Tim hears the faintest rustling coming from the bats as they shift their wings. The sound is simultaneously worrying and comforting, and Tim picks up the pace as he steps off the stairs and starts making his way across the vast expanse of the cave floor, stealing past souvenirs of past run-ins with crime on his way to the section of the cave that’s devoted to the garage and the various methods of transportation that he and his makeshift family use to get around the city.

"I can’t believe I forgot my freaking keys in the car," Tim mutters to himself, exasperation heavy in his voice as he stomps over to the biggest of the cars in the darkest corner of the cave. "The  _car_. That I don’t even get to ride in half the time.  _God_ —”

Tim barely manages to resist the urge to kick the side of the batmobile.

Just because it’s downtime everywhere else in the house, that doesn’t mean that the cars’ alarm systems aren’t armed. Kicking a tire only to wind up with a face full of knockout gas is  _not_  how Tim wants to start off his weekend. Not when he has plans to meet with Jason in just a few hours.

So Tim settles for scowling at the car instead, huffing impatiently as he slips his fingers underneath the driver side handle so that the fingerprint sensors can register his touch and unlock the car.

The second that Tim crawls into the car, the car door swings shut behind him with a muted thud. The heavy door knocks Tim into the driver’s side seat, plunging him into darkness for several seconds before Tim remembers where the switches are for the internal lights and flips them on.

The second that Tim gets the overhead light on, the massive double doors at the end of the path that leads to the garage area slide open with a heavy hydraulic hiss and two bikes, unrecognizable in the darkness, rumble as their drivers seem to race against each other down the long path. The first bike, a black one that Tim recognizes as Bruce’s custom made motorcycle the minute that it passes underneath the lights, comes to a skidding stop mere _inches_  away from the Batmobile where Tim is sitting well hidden by the tinted black glass of the car’s massive windshield.

Tim watches with wide eyes as Bruce turns off his bike and sweeps the reinforced cowl off of his head with one gauntleted hand. From his vantage point in the driver’s seat, Tim can pick up on all the little things. On all the things that he wouldn’t have noticed standing right next to Bruce with the adrenaline from patrol.

Like the way that Bruce can’t stop smiling a quiet smile that Tim never imagined that he’d see on the older man’s face. It’s not a ‘Brucie’ smile, wide and bright and fake as hell, but it’s not the grimly bared snarl of white teeth in the night that Bruce uses as Batman. This is something softer, an expression that Tim has only seen on Bruce’s face a handful of times, and Tim has no idea what on earth could cause such a look.

The answer comes several minutes later when the slimmer, blue-striped Hayabusa that Dick uses for patrols on their lighter nights out pulls up alongside Bruce’s bike.

Once both bikes are turned off and standing stable, Dick yanks off his helmet and jabs one gloved finger dead center at the emblem splayed across Bruce’s chest.

"I can’t believe you cheated," Dick says, shouting loud enough that Tim actually winces from within the confines of the car. He scowls at Bruce and then crosses his arms across his chest, looking as mad as Tim has ever seen him. "I should make you do it again without the sensors in the lenses turned on."

"I can’t believe you didn’t cheat," Bruce says once Dick finishes fussing with him. He’s still smiling at Dick, but Tim notices how the softer smile is sharpening as he watches Dick scowl at him. "Barbara would’ve helped you win."

Dick shouldn’t look very imposing with his hands on his hips, Tim thinks as he watches the scene play out in front of him, but there’s something about the way that he looks as he talks back to Bruce that sends a chill down Tim’s spine.

The duo move away from the car, towards the changing areas, leaving Tim trapped inside the car as he tries to figure out whether staying in would be better than trying to be stealthy and interrupting their argument. They move close together, shifting so that their bodies are turned towards each other. Dick is still touching Bruce, but the jabbing finger has been replaced by a palm of one gauntleted hand spread out across Bruce’s chest.

Tim can’t hear them, not unless he wants to turn on the car’s directional mics and risk getting caught spying, but he wants to. He wants to know what they’re saying to make Bruce look so smug and satisfied while Dick takes on an unusually taciturn expression. Tim shifts in the bucket seat, turning so that he can watch Dick talk, gesturing all the while with his free hand.

Even from his seat in the car, Tim can pick up on a tension between Bruce and Dick. He freezes, fingers frozen over the handle for the door as Dick steps forward and tilts his head up, eyes narrowed and his mouth tight with some kind of emotion that Tim can’t decipher without more clues.

A second later though, Tim gets his clues.

Bruce surges forward, one huge arm going around Dick’s thinner waist as he hauls him in close. He pulls Dick into a kiss that looks pornographic, full of teeth and tongue and just enough groping to make Tim feel like he should cover his eyes even though he’s done far worse (within the past few weeks even).

It’s not like everyone doesn’t already know that Bruce and Dick have something going on.

While they’re not exactly the most tactile couple that Tim has ever seen, they’re still obviously together. They circle each other like a planet circles a star and while normally, Tim would kick himself for waxing poetic about the closest thing to parental figure’s he’s got left, the only other alternative is watching them kiss and Tim  _really_  doesn’t want to go through with that.

Tim settles back in the seat, turning away from where Bruce and Dick are standing there with their bodies pressed together. He reaches for where his smartphone is tucked into one of his front pockets and swipes his thumb in a pattern over the touch screen, trying to focus on the texts that pop up once his phone is unlocked.

He makes it through reading and responding to half a dozen texts over the space of several minutes before he dares to peek in the direction that Bruce and Dick had been in only a few moments before.

Tim’s half expecting them to be gone by now, there’s no way that they can be kissing for  _that_ long Tim thinks to himself. But when he catches a glimpse of the two men, they’ve gone far beyond kissing.

Dick is half in, half out of his costume when Tim looks again. The top half of his suit is mostly off, baring a flat, scarred stomach and the dark edges of a bruise tracing around his side.

Tim stares openly, hidden behind the car’s tinted windows as Bruce’s hand settles on Dick’s hip just underneath that florid bruise. The part of Tim’s brain that’d usually tell him to look away from all forms of PDA that he isn’t taking part in is quiet for a change, nice and muffled by the part of Tim’s brain that is a healthy teenaged boy come face to face with something undeniably sexy.

Bruce’s hand, still covered by his gauntlets, shifts to squeeze Dick’s hip. The strength of Bruce’s flexing fingers looks as though it should hurt and while Tim winces for it, Dick reacts in quite the opposite manner. His mouth drops open in a moan loud enough for Tim to hear even while stuck within the confines of the car and he shudders against Bruce.

"Oh," Tim says without thinking, eyes wide as he watches Bruce move from palming Dick’s hip to groping the curve of his ass. " _Fuck_ —” The hand not holding his phone drops into his lap to cup his groin, the reflexive motion coming out of left field as Tim watches Bruce manhandle Dick.

This really shouldn’t be that hot.

Except for the fact that it  _really_  freaking is.

Dick is always good looking, always gorgeous.

Tim should know, he’s had a crush on him for most of his life. But like this, pressed up against Bruce’s body with his hair curling against the nape of his neck and his bare hands flexing against the unbroken grey and black of Bruce’s costume, Dick is something else. Something so attractive as to be indescribable though Tim tries to come up with the words despite the way that sudden lust fuzzes his brain with every second that passes with Bruce still kissing Dick like he wants to own him.

But then, they stop, pulling away from each other slowly while Dick continues to grin up at Bruce. Really, Tim is sure that they’re about to take things upstairs or at least head to the showers to fool around, but then Bruce starts to lead Dick in the direction of the car and Tim just —

Freezes.

"Oh god," Tim breathes, eyes darting around the relatively cramped interior of the car as though expecting to see a hiding space pop out of nowhere. "I’m  _so_  dead…” If they open the Batmobile door now and see Tim with one hand all but down his pants, Tim is deader than dead. He’s deader than Deadman.

 _Shit_!

Out of Tim’s peripheral vision, he notices Bruce and Dick getting closer and closer to the car.

With every single step that they take towards him, Tim feels his chest tighten with panic. He swears that any second now, that Bruce or Dick will hook their fingers in the handle of the door and pull it open to see him sitting there, nice and snug and in the middle of their moment.

Thankfully, Bruce and Dick don’t stop. They go to the front of the car, to the hood that’s nice and cool from being in a damp,  _dark_ cave all night and then Bruce urges Dick up to sit on the front of the hood. With Dick in the way, Tim can’t see much, but what he can see when he looks up next leaves him breathless.

Bruce must’ve taken off his gauntlets between glances, because the next thing that Tim sees is the sight of one of Bruce’s big,  _bare_  hands sliding into the dark strands of Dick’s sweat-dampened hair. He doesn’t pet Dick, doesn’t stroke his hair. No, as far as Tim can tell from his vantage point several feet behind Dick, Bruce is pulling Dick’s hair and Dick is —

Letting him.

Tim inches forward on the seat, trying to get a good look at what’s going on. He still can’t hear anything, but that’s a good thing considering how the soundproofing in the car goes both ways. If he can’t hear what Bruce and Dick are saying to each other outside of the car, then they can’t hear him panting like an overworked racehorse inside it.

Bruce pulls Dick up into a kiss that from Tim’s side at least, looks incredibly painful. It’s a claiming kiss, the sort of embrace that a guy gets pulled into when his partner’s showing off. Dick moves into the kiss, body arching up from the car as Bruce’s grip tightens enough that his neck curves with the effort of following that movement.

Bruce follows the curve of Dick’s body, mouth moving down across gold-hued flesh that’s practically more scar than skin. Tim keeps looking away and then back, his own eyes falling helplessly on where the faintest of suck marks appear on Dick’s skin.

From the path that Bruce takes with his open mouth, Tim thinks he knows exactly how this is going to end. It’s going to end with Bruce on his knees in front of Dick and Tim with his hands down his pants because apparently, he has  _no_  self-control as far as the scene in front of him is concerned.

But Bruce surprises him by flipping Dick over onto his stomach, splaying him across the hood of the car as if Dick doesn’t weigh a thing. He surprises Dick too, Tim realizes, by the way that Dick flails in the moments after his stomach hits the hood with his blue eyes wide and full of shock.

Dick’s mouth falls open with a muffled cry, shaping the words “Oh god,” as Bruce yanks the bottom half of his suit down along with his jock. He presses back against Bruce, moaning the whole time as Bruce takes his time stripping off his gloves and pulling a little tube of what Tim is pretty sure is lubricant from one of the pockets on his belt.

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what Bruce is about to do.

For once, Tim  _isn’t_ wrong and he watches with wide eyes and a dry mouth as Bruce starts fingering Dick, working him open with slow movements that leave Dick gasping and Tim digging his fingernails into the palms of his hands.

“ _F-fuck_  —”

A second later, when Tim’s phone lights up with Jason’s image plastered across the screen and vibrates against one thigh, he nearly breaks something trying to answer it. He presses lifts the phone with shaking fingers and presses it to his ear.

"Hey, Jason," Tim whispers as he turns away from the scene in front of him with more than a fair bit of effort. Despite himself and his efforts, Tim’s voice still comes out rough from all the lust he can’t even begin to tamp down. "Wh- what’s up?"

Jason snorts. “What’s up with you? Why the hell are you talking like that for?”

Tim huffs, shifting in the seat while daring a glance out the windshield at where Bruce and Dick are still going at it. He licks his lips slowly, getting caught up in watching Bruce move from fingering Dick to fucking him. “Would you believe that I’m stuck in the big batmobile while Bruce and Dick go at it like rabbits?”

There’s silence stretching between them for a minute before Jason bursts out laughing right in Tim’s ear.

"You have  _got_  to be kidding me,” Jason says with disbelief heavy in his voice. “You’re lying to me right?”

Tim scoffs and then, before he can think better of it, turns his phone around and takes a quick picture through the windshield of Bruce clearly going to town on Dick.

Bruce’s hands are huge on Dick’s hip, hands pressing him down against the top of the car and fucking him hard enough that the big Batmobile actually rocks a little on its sturdy wheels. Tim’s gaze lingers where it probably shouldn’t, on the flush on Dick’s face and on the way that Dick’s  _dick_ bobs between his legs. He takes a few more shots against his better judgement and then sends the photos in a text message.

Tim sits back, waiting with a smug smile already on his face.

When Jason gets the photos several seconds later, his reaction certainly doesn’t disappoint.

"Holy shit!"

Tim snickers. “Still think I’m kidding?”

Jason clears his throat before speaking, but when he says Tim’s name again; his voice is rough with a telltale note of  _want_  to it. The sound that need makes Tim groan lowly and squirm in his seat, legs spreading as wide as he possibly can within the confines of his seat as his body reacts in the most predictable way.

"No, but you’re  _something_  for not getting right in the middle of that,” Jason teases. “How many times have you had to pull your hands out of your pants so far, you little pervert?” The low rumble of Jason’s voice makes TIm shift, squirming against his seat as his hand makes an unsurprising return to his lap.

Tim licks his lips before answering. “Oh, like you could do any better,” he retorts. “Do you know how long I’ve been stuck down here? I’m going to need a miracle to get out of my pants when I get out of here.”

"I’ll help," Jason says, not even trying to hide the lascivious note to his low voice. "If you can make it here without dying from the world’s worst case of blue balls, I’ll definitely help you with  _that_  miracle.” He pauses. “You  _are_  still coming over, right?”

Tim has to laugh. “The second these two get tired of screwing around and head upstairs,” he says when Jason growls at him a bit over the phone. “It’s a bit earlier than we planned, but something tells me you won’t mind.”

*

"I thought they would never be finished," Tim blurts out the second that Jason opens the door to his apartment. Tim stops just shy of flinging himself at his boyfriend, choosing instead to press close and get a hug from the other man.

When Jason laughs, Tim feels it against his cheek. “I told you to move in with me when you started going to GU. You’re the one that wanted to stay at the Manor and keep an eye on things.”

"If it makes you feel any better," Tim mutters, eyes narrowed and his mouth pinched with a scowl, "I think I’ve seen enough of Bruce and Dick to last me a lifetime. How am I going to look them in the eye tonight when I go in for patrol?"

If anything, that only makes Jason laugh harder.

"Jason!"

"Okay, Tim," Jason says eventually, still smiling like a fool. "Just — just be glad that neither of them are mind readers. Imagine how awkward it’d be if you had to work with the Martian Manhunter after seeing something like that…"

Thanks to his overactive and very vivid imagination, Tim  _does_  imagine it

"You know what Jason?"

"Hm?"

"I think I hate you."


End file.
